


snow

by suzukiblu



Series: push and pull [2]
Category: Avatar: The Last Airbender
Genre: Adoption, Alternate Universe, Canonical Character Death, Childhood, Childhood Trauma, Death, F/M, Family, Fluff and Angst, Gen, Hakoda (Avatar) is a Good Parent, M/M, Multi, Not Canon Compliant - The Legend of Korra, Not Compliant with Avatar Comics, Polyamory, Pre-Canon, Waterbending & Waterbenders
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-19
Updated: 2020-07-19
Packaged: 2021-03-04 18:08:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,760
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25390627
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/suzukiblu/pseuds/suzukiblu
Summary: “K’ara,” Tuikka says firmly, giving the edge of his little sister’s blanket a sound pat, and Kya smiles and looks past him to Hakoda and Bato and Lanook as they come stumbling in from outside, Lanook’s tiny mittens holding onto Hakoda and Bato’s big, strong hands and his little face pink with excitement and the cold.This is hers, she reminds herself, and knows it was always supposed to be.
Relationships: Bato/Hakoda/Kya (Avatar), Katara & Sokka (Avatar), Katara & Zuko (Avatar), Sokka & Zuko (Avatar)
Series: push and pull [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1830643
Comments: 110
Kudos: 1159
Collections: ATLA Polyamory Fics, My Favorite Atla Fics





	snow

**Author's Note:**

> Further lil’ bits and pieces from that AU meme of old, put in order and polished up nice and shiny for y’all (plus a couple added lil’ bits to flesh things out a bit more). This is all the pre-canon stuff for the Water Tribe. After this, we go to the Fire Nation, and then we get to season one. 
> 
> Also, thanks to mirandatam for looking this over for me, I appreciated it greatly!

"Up," Lanook says matter-of-factly, reaching up to the tall, tall man in red who towers above him. He doesn't know the red man; the red man is a stranger, and before this moment he had no concept of that idea. In his year of life, he has never met anyone he had not known from before he could remember. 

He isn't afraid, though.

_"Up,"_ he insists again when the man hesitates, and then the red man laughs low and soft and leans down and picks him up, and Lanook _trills_ his satisfaction and snuggles into strange, smooth fabrics he's never felt the likes of and has no names for. The tall man makes a rumbling noise that is probably words, but all Lanook understands is the "good boy" and he makes another happy noise at hearing it and then clambers up the red man's shoulders to pull at his funny hair. He's never seen anyone with such funny hair. 

There's a _thing_ in the red man's hair. A red thing! A red _metal_ thing!

It looks _fun_.

"Um," some other words, "please stop," the red man manages, not very convincingly. He must want Lanook to try harder! Lanook sticks his tongue out in concentration and tugs harder at the red thing. It's _stuck_.

Tricky red thing.

"Okay, enough," other words, "brat," the red man says dubiously, suddenly holding him at arm's length. But he looks different! The red man looks like a _different_ man! But he's still red.

Well. He must be the same one, then. Nobody _else_ wears red, after all.

"Play," Lanook says plaintively, making grabby hands back at the red man, who just rolls his eyes and straightens the red thing on his head.

"I _told_ ," some other words, "too soon for this."

.

.

.

Kya hears the two most horrible sounds any woman in the Water Tribe can ever imagine hearing: cracking ice far out on the lake, and her young sons' twin screams exactly that distance away. She whips around and nearly falls, pregnant belly too heavy to let her run, and the terror is a _knife_ and the other women cry out in horror and the ice _rocks_ beneath her babies and—

Tuikka giggles, and the surface steadies.

Kya blinks. Her vision swims, her legs give out, and Lanook, her baby, her sweet and perfect _miracle_ baby . . . he scoots across the ice with a nervous little frown of concentration, pulling his big brother with him and freezing the cracks in it shut with every step.

.

.

.

“Lanook’s a bender,” Kya says. Hakoda looks surprised; Bato looks alarmed. She should have specifically said “waterbender”, she realizes belatedly, but she doesn’t want to explicitly correct herself with the boys around—they’re very young, yes, but it’d be a dangerous habit—so instead, “Lanook, sweetie, can you show Daddy and Bato?” 

“Show!” Lanook says excitedly, and pulls water out of the snow and into a little globe in his mittened hands. Hakoda and Bato tilt their heads with matching expressions of bemusement. Kya doesn’t blame them. 

“He and Tuikka wandered out on the ice,” she says, still hating herself for losing track of them like that. “It broke.” 

“It broke?!” Hakoda asks in alarm. 

“He bent it?” Bato says. 

“Yes,” Kya says. “Froze it back together.” 

“Ball,” Tuikka says as he pats at the ball of water Lanook’s holding. Lanook tries to hand it to him, but it falls apart, and both boys frown in confusion. Kya scoops Lanook up, trying not to be too obviously anxious. The boys will notice. 

“How?” Hakoda says, and Kya shrugs helplessly. 

“He just is,” she says. “I’ve never seen him even try before, but today . . .” 

“It’s a good thing,” Bato says. “A _very_ good thing.” 

He’s not wrong. If Lanook hadn’t been able to bend, or been a _different_ kind of bender . . . 

Well. That would’ve been a lot of problems all at once, wouldn’t it. 

“He’s . . . _only_ bent water, right?” Hakoda asks carefully, and Kya blinks. That’s . . . a good question. Surely the Avatar Cycle can’t have come back around to Fire again without anyone noticing, though. _Surely_. 

“Only water,” she confirms, stroking Lanook’s hair. Lanook puts a hand on her stomach, and giggles when the baby kicks. 

“Mama, up!” Tuikka says, tugging at her parka. Bato leans down and picks him up. 

“We should tell your mother, Hakoda,” he says. 

“I . . . guess?” Hakoda says, frowning. “I mean—yes, we should.” 

“Yes,” Kya says, trying not to worry. Lanook’s father must’ve been Water. That’s all. Never mind his pale, pale skin and pitch-black hair—that’s the only thing that makes sense. He can’t be the _Avatar_. He’d have firebent by now, if nothing else. He likes the firepit too much not to have. 

. . . he really does like the firepit _so_ much, she thinks, and tries not to worry. 

.

.

.

“Mamaaaa,” Tuikka calls very, very softly, standing on his tiptoes to whisper into Kya’s ear, “Mama, play?”

“Not right now, baby,” Kya tells him with a faint, tired smile, tipping her head to nuzzle his soft little wolftail tuft, the one he still just barely has enough hair for. Lanook’s is longer but also even softer, and nearly impossible to keep pulled back. “Go play with Lanook and Daddy and Bato, okay?” 

“Want _Mama_!” Tuikka insists stubbornly, and Kya lets out a soft huff of a laugh.

“Sit with me, then,” she murmurs. “Come see your new baby sister.”

“Baby!” Tuikka says eagerly, immediately clambering up into the cot, and Kya winces as he inadvertently strikes a few very sore places with his tiny knees but bites back the groan of pain and shifts to make room for him and to let him see Katara, tiny and new and curled up in her blanket with her fresh-carved protective totem—the one that matches Tuikka’s, but not Lanook’s, and that neither of the boys have seen lest they get curious about their own.

Kya’d forgotten, right up until Hakoda had started carving Katara’s totem and Bato had immediately swept both the boys outside to play. It hadn’t even _occurred_ to her until that, and Hakoda had looked just as surprised for the first instant. 

It was . . . strange, in a way, except how it wasn’t strange at all.

“K’ara,” Tuikka says firmly, giving the edge of his little sister’s blanket a sound pat, and Kya smiles and looks past him to Hakoda and Bato and Lanook as they come stumbling in from outside, Lanook’s tiny mittens holding onto Hakoda and Bato’s big, strong hands and his little face pink with excitement and the cold.

This is hers, she reminds herself, and knows it was always supposed to be.

.

.

.

Lanook finds a cave in a dream and crawls into it. It’s dim inside and something makes a weird scrapey, _slithery_ noise like a knife being sharpened except really, really slow. He peers deeper into the gloom curiously, crawls in a little further, and a monster snaps forward out of the shadows.

Lanook doesn’t even scream before the red man’s arms are around him and the red man’s sleeves are hiding him from the monster. Then he just doesn’t scream at all, because maybe if he doesn’t the monster will forget he’s there.

_scrape scrape_

_scrape_

goes the monster, its creepy crooked legs, its armored hide,

_skritchty_

_skritchty_

_skritchskritchSKRITCH_

it goes.

“Now there’s a face,” the monster purrs like it’s _hungry_ , and then Lanook _does_ scream.

The red man’s arms are tight around him.

“Let us pass,” the red man says, his voice spark-hot like a fire, and the monster chuckles raspily and Lanook whimpers and whimpers and can’t _stop_.

“It woke me _up_. It’s only fair for it to compensate me,” it drawls _skritch skritch scraaaaape_.

“Let us _pass_ ,” the red man bites off sharply, and Lanook squeezes his eyes shut and _trembles_.

“Mmm, I don’t think so. Mmmmm, a child’s face and a _betrayer’s_ , how very—”

“It wasn’t a request,” the red man says, and Lanook never figures out how but suddenly everything is hothot _hot_ and the monster _screams_ and the red man yanks him off his feet and runs and the air smells like that time Daddy burned the rotten carcass of an elk-caribou out on the plain to ward off disease, sick and burning and _wrong_ but not like that at all, not really burning because burning means light and smoke and _fire_ and there _isn't_ any— 

Outside the cave, the red man changes faces again and cradles Lanook gently while he cries, until he wakes up in tears and it’s Mama cradling him instead.

.

.

.

"That's my boy, that's my _brave_ boy," Kya croons in a lullaby lilt, cradling the sobbing Lanook in her arms. "Mommy's here, baby, don't be scared."

"Mommy, Mommy, it was _scary_ , Mommy!" Lanook sobs, so small against her in the dark and crawling inside her parka like it can keep out the monsters in his dreams. Kya shushes him with soft little croons, strokes his hair, and lets the sniffling Tuikka clamber into bed with them. In her cradle, Katara starts to cry, and Hakoda pushes himself off the blankets with a groan and goes to get her. Kya just keeps whispering to the boys.

"It's alright, Lanook, it was just a dream. See, Tuikka, your little brother's fine, it was just a dream, everything's fine," she soothes, and Tuikka looks comforted, at least a little, but Lanook just sobs harder.

"But the red man said it was _real_!" Lanook wails, and Kya stills and Hakoda freezes halfway to Katara's cradle and Bato stiffens on the other side of the tent and Tuikka makes a confused noise. Kya closes her eyes, grits her teeth, and tells herself, _don't you DARE falter now, he is YOUR BOY don't you DARE falter NOW_. 

"The red man was part of the dream, sweetie," she rasps softly, wrapping her arms _tight_ around both of them and keeping them close. "He wasn't real either."

They're her boys. They're her boys, _both_ of them, and Katara's her girl, and Hakoda and Bato are her men, and they're all each other's. 

And dreams are just dreams.

If the Fire Nation wants Lanook back, then they shouldn't have given him _up_.

.

.

.

"And then the mighty warrior Kiviuk was swept out to sea and _lost_ ," Lanook tells Katara in a hushed, serious voice, arms wrapped around her where she sits in his lap in front of the low embers of their small firepit. "But he was really _really_ brave and he fought the storms and flowed with the waves, and the spirits rewarded his bravery by letting him find shore again.” 

"And then he met a horrible _witch_ and she tried to _eat_ him!" Tuikka puts in gleefully from the other side of the fire, throwing his arms up in the air menacingly and nearly knocking the remains of dinner into the firepit.

_"EAT!"_ Katara shrieks delightedly as she imitates him, her chubby little fists smacking Lanook in the face. "Yum-yum, yum-yum _eat_!" 

" _Tuikka_ , it's not that _part_ yet!" Lanook protests indignantly, clapping his hands over Katara's ears and scowling at him. "You're ruining the story!"

"But that's the _best_ part!" Tuikka whines at him, scowling in return. "You're telling all the _boring_ stuff!"

"'Cuz it's the _story_! And it's _not_ boring, it's cool!" Lanook shoots back hotly.

"It's _so_ boring," Tuikka retorts stubbornly, folding his arms across his chest. "Isn't it boring, Katara?"

_"STORY!"_ Katara crows at the top of her lungs, throwing her fists in the air again gleefully and giving Lanook another sound whack. He yips in pain, then gives Tuikka a dirty look.

_"Anyway,"_ Tuikka goes on, deliberately ignoring the look and gesturing expansively again, "then Kiviuk called his spirit _polar_ bear dog and they—"

"It's not that _part_ yet!"

.

.

.

_“No,”_ Tuikka says firmly, dragging his bigger-than-him little brother back from the firepit for the third time of the morning, and Lanook pouts sulkily and drops down on his butt in the snow, folding his arms stubbornly.

“I wanna play in the _fire_ ,” he insists.

“No playing in the fire!” Tuikka insists right back, scowling down at him and planting his hands on his hips like Mama does when she’s in Boss-Mode. Mama told him to make _super_ sure Lanook stayed away from the fire. Mama always tells him that, it’s one of his Big Brother Jobs. “It’s very dangerous!”

“But it’s _prettyyyy_ , Tuikka,” Lanook whines, pouting at the firepit again and starting to inch back towards it. Tuikka drags him back by the parka, digging his boots into the snow.

“ _No_ , Lanook, it’s _bad_!” he shouts. “You’ll get burned _up_!”

“Will not!” Lanook shouts back at him, trying to wriggle out of his parka and escape.

“Will so!” Tuikka shoots back, grabbing onto his arm.

“Will _not_!”

“Will _so_ , Mama _said_ so!”

“She did _not_ , liar!”

“Did so!”

“Did _not_!”

“Okay,” Daddy says wearily, appearing out of nowhere behind them and scooping them both up under an arm, “that’s enough outside time this morning, boys. Anymore and we might run out of neighbors.”

“But Daaaaddy—”

“Lanook, _no one_ is going to let you play in the fire pit, boy. Get used to it.”

.

.

.

"Teeka, L'nook, Teeka, L'nook!" Katara squeals from the top of the hill, and Tuikka groans and pulls his hood over his head.

"Bug _off_ , Katara, you've been following us all _day_!" he yells back up at her, although Lanook's already clambering clumsily up the hill to see what the fuss is about.

"L'nook, L'nook, _look_ , L'nook!" Katara greets him eagerly, and immediately hits him in the face with a snowball hard enough to knock him over and send him tumbling back down the hill with a startled yelp. She bursts into giggles, and Tuikka muffles a snort and tromps over to drag Lanook back to his feet.

"Dummy," he says. Lanook just spits out snow and makes a face at him.

And then the whole hill's worth of snow lands on _both_ of them, accompanied by the thrilled giggles of their baby sister. 

"Nff," Lanook manages sometime between getting buried and squirming out from under the pile of snow, and by the time he shakes it all out of his hair Tuikka's mostly clawed his way to the top, scowling.

_"Lanook—"_

"It wasn't _me_!" Lanook protests indignantly. Katara's giggles turn _delighted_ , and the boys both turn to look at her at the same time, identical expressions of disbelief on their faces.

"Uh."

". . . weird magic's your thing. _You're_ telling the grown-ups.” 

_"Hey!"_

.

.

.

Hakoda watches his boys as they stare up at the boomerangs in his hand with rapt attention, both clearly fascinated before he’s even started talking. They’re not old enough to hunt or fight, of course, but they’re old enough to start learning what to expect once they are. They’ll need to be strong, and he has no intention of failing to raise them that way. 

“Can we see?” Tuikka asks hopefully, reaching up, and Hakoda gives him one of the boomerangs. It’s smaller than any of the men’s, more meant to get the boys used to the idea of carrying one than anything else. They’re meant to be used, of course, but used for learning, not anything else. They’re the first step in the process of raising a proper hunter and warrior. 

Tuikka looks fascinated by the boomerang, and Lanook is clearly just as curious. Hakoda offers him the other boomerang, and he takes it gingerly in both hands. 

“You’ll need to be careful with them,” Hakoda says, and Bato lets out a soft huff of a laugh beside him. Hakoda shoots him a wry look. Just because they were anything _but_ careful when they were learning doesn’t mean he wants to encourage the boys to run wild. 

“We’ll be careful!” Lanook promises immediately. 

“Super careful!” Tuikka agrees, nodding eagerly. Coming from boys who like to play with fire and run off onto the ice, it’s not exactly reassuring, but Hakoda will take what he can get. 

“Good,” he says, hefting his own boomerang. “Now let us show you how to throw those.” 

.

.

.

"Meaniefaces!" Katara screeches after her brothers as they scamper up the hill—they _know_ Bato said she can't go out that far yet, they're such _jerks_! And they never want to play with her, they like playing _together_ too much. She can keep up! Just 'cause she's littler and a girl doesn't mean she can't keep up!

. . . yes it does.

But that _doesn't_ mean they can get away from her on snow.

"You guys are _jerks_!" Katara shouts after Tuikka and Lanook, and then _stomps_ hard enough to freeze a line of snow halfway up the hill. Tuikka yelps and slides down, and Lanook yelps and twists his feet, the ice turning back into snow underneath them.

The slide's enough to split them up, though, so that's good enough—it means Katara can nail Tuikka with a snowball.

_"JERKS!"_ she shouts again, and freezes him into the snow while she's at it before stomping back towards home. _Mommy_ will play with her.

.

.

.

The red man is arguing with himself, and Lanook watches curiously as he switches from one look to another. It’s interesting—the red man’s faces don’t usually talk to each _other_ , just him. As far as he knows the red man has always been there, but this is new. 

“You can’t _teach_ him that, what would his family think?!” the red man’s first face protests, and his second face turns away and makes a noise of disgust.

“Perhaps that someone’d finally thought to give him the proper upbringing they’re so clearly neglecting,” it retorts.

“He’s receiving a _very_ proper Water Tribe upbringi—”

“That’s my _point_!”

“Can we go play yet?” Lanook asks hopefully, tugging at the red man’s taller face when it reappears—he’s nicer when he wears the taller face. And way, way more of a pushover.

“Of course we—”

“— _can’t_. You haven’t even learned how to hold your _chopsticks_ properly—”

“He doesn’t _need_ to know how to hold chopsticks properly, they don’t even _have_ those in the Water Tribe.”

“Doesn’t _need_ to?!”

Lanook watches the argument for another long moment, then finally decides to just get up and find something to do on his own. The red man will catch up when he’s done being weird.

.

.

.

Lanook didn't really think about waterbending until Katara started doing it. It was kind of cool being the only one who could, kind of cool to be able to dry his clothes and stuff faster than Tuikka, kind of cool to never spill a drop of his sea prune stew no matter what, but it wasn't _important_. It was just something he did sometimes, same way as sometimes he went and peeked at the scary-looking Fire Nation ship caught in the ice but mostly he didn't.

It was there, but it didn't _matter_.

But then Katara started doing it, and she wanted to do it all the _time_ and she wanted Lanook to do it with her and she wanted Lanook to show her all the cool stuff _he_ could do and, well . . . that wasn't very much stuff.

So then suddenly waterbending was important and _did_ matter and he found himself scowling at icicles all afternoon trying to make them freeze the way he _wanted_ them to freeze and it was way, way harder than he'd thought it was going to be and totally stupid and not worth his time at all right up until Katara inevitably popped up and started “ooo”-ing and “ahhh”-ing over how cool he was and _teach me Lanook pleeease?_

He isn't even very good at it—Katara is _way_ better, and most of the time she picks things up faster than Lanook can even figure them out—but he’s not telling _her_ that. Not when she looks so hopeful and eager for more to learn.

.

.

.

Hakoda drags their scuffling sons apart with a bemused expression, shoving Lanook into Bato's arms and pinning the more violent Tuikka against his own chest. Lanook immediately bursts into tears and buries his face in Bato's neck, and Katara stays hidden behind them, clinging to the bottom of Bato's parka and staring up at them with large, frightened eyes. Hakoda doesn't _understand_ —the boys have _never_ fought before, not like _this_. Lanook's nose and lip are bloody, though, and Tuikka, Tuikka is _furious_. 

"Tuikka, what the hell do you think you're doing?!" Hakoda barks, and Tuikka just screams and tries to bite him. _"TUIKKA!"_

Kya comes running—thank the spirits, every last one—and grabs the boy up, and then _he_ starts crying too and tries to hide in her parka.

"Mama, Mamaaaa," he sobs. "Mama, Lanook doesn't w-wanna p-p- _play_ with me anymore, m-make him _play_ with me!"

"Baby, what are you talking about, of course Lanook wants to play with you, Lanook _loves_ you," Kya croons, turning away from the torn-up and bloody snow and rocking him gently. "You're his big brother, he loves you _so_ much. Why would you _hit_ him?"

"He d-doesn't, he doesn't _like_ me no more, he only likes Katara 'cause she can bend _too_!" Tuikka wails, crying harder against the fur hood of Kya's parka, and Kya blinks rapidly in surprise and looks back to the still-sniffling Lanook and still-hiding Katara.

"Lanook, baby?" she asks, and Lanook sniffles louder and just shakes his head, hiding deeper against Bato. Katara whines, very quietly, and presses her own small face against the back of Bato's thigh. "Lanook, look at Mommy. Did you tell Tuikka you didn't want to play with him because he can't bend?"

"Nuh-uh," Lanook mumbles past another loud sniff, and Katara whines again. Kya's eyes drop to her, and narrow very slightly.

"Katara . . ." she starts warningly, and tears well up in the girl's eyes.

"It’s not _fair_ , Mama, Tuikka gets Lanook all the _time_!" she wails, stomping a foot against the snow. "I just wanted Tuikka to go away so we could _practice_ together! Nobody else can show me how!" Hakoda groans silently and Kya sighs, and Bato just shakes his head and pats Lanook's back soothingly. 

"Katara, sweetie, that's not how you get your brother to play with you," Kya says gently, leaning down to give her a disapproving look. "You ask Tuikka _nicely_ to let you play with Lanook."

"It’s not playing, it’s _waterbending_!" Katara shouts stubbornly, eyes squeezing shut against tears. "Waterbending’s more _important_ than just playing!" Kya just sighs again and passes Tuikka back to Hakoda, dropping into a crouch to scoop Katara up.

"You and I are going to have a _talk_ , young lady," she says sternly, then fixes Tuikka and Lanook both with the same disapproving look. "And as for you two, you know better than to solve your problems by hitting. Next time, you come to us."

"Yes, Mama," the boys both mumble guiltily, and Katara sniffles, and Hakoda thanks every spirit there ever was or will be for the existence of his wife, because there was _no_ way he and Bato were solving that one. 

.

.

.

“At least we’re not outnumbered,” Kya laughs as the children stampede by through the snow, Katara just barely managing to keep up with the boys—they have longer, stronger legs, but she’s better at running through it than either of them. Kya watches in amusement as the three of them manage to trip each other up and go skidding down the hill, shrieking in terrified delight. Hakoda and Bato just wince, expecting tears. But Tuikka’s back on his feet first and dragging Lanook with him and Lanook drags Katara and then they’re off running again without any time for it.

“I _feel_ outnumbered,” Hakoda says wryly, sighing in relief at the averted potential disaster, and Kya just laughs again and gives him a little push. 

“Men. Where’s that warrior spirit of yours?” she teases.

“I think the kids made off with it,” Hakoda replies, frowning at the sounds of shrieking from over the rise. He’s _pretty_ sure it’s laughter.

“I think you’re full of it,” Kya scoffs, smirking up at him. “They’re old enough to talk to now, Hakoda, I _think_ you can stop worrying they’ll explode and take us out with them.”

“Says you. They’re _your_ kids, they’re just waiting for the right time to strike.”

“Can’t argue with that,” Kya says, smirking wider and looking towards the sound of the children’s shouts and laughter. “Still, at least _try_ to look less like a hunted elk-caribou, darling. _Bato_ doesn’t dive for cover when the herd migrates through.”

“Don’t involve me in this,” Bato says, raising an eyebrow at her as he folds his arms across his chest. “I’m just here to keep the teams even.”

“No you’re not,” Kya replies, winding an arm through his with an affectionate smile and keeping her eyes on the rise the children disappeared over. Hakoda grunts, very decidedly looking that way too, and Bato represses a quiet chuckle and pets the back of Kya’s hand.

“Maybe,” he agrees, and she smiles against his shoulder and Hakoda finds an excuse to shift closer on his other side and Bato just keeps watching the rise, waiting for their children to reappear. 

.

.

.

“Get your sister _out_ of here!” Kya shouts, and Lanook grabs Katara and _bolts_. Kya hears her wailing in protest, _“no no no MAMA!”_ , and feels dizziness sweep over her. _Run,_ she thinks distantly—or prays, but probably both, _run, your eyes are hawkseye and your feet are wolfspaw we are with you we are with you we are WITH you they cannot TOUCH you—_

The Fire Nation soldier’s fingers light with flame, and Kya’s teeth grit against the rising bile in the back of her throat.

“Where's the other one?” he asks.

“It's just—it’s just me. I’m the only one,” Kya chokes, and the flames rise. He doesn’t believe her until she’s _screaming_ it, until everything is horrible crackling black _agony_ , but that’s fine. As long as he believes her.

_your eyes are hawkseye your feet are wolfspaw we are with you_

_we are with you_

_we are with you_

_I am with you_

_I will always be with—_

.

.

.

The first time he's slept since seeing his first firebender, the first time he's slept since Kya died, Lanook wakes up _screaming_.

Every fire in the camp freezes over. 

Hakoda scoops his boy into his arms, holds him _tight_ , and Lanook shakes and shakes and _sobs_ —

"I'm not I'm not I'm not I'm _not_ I'm a _water_ bender!" Lanook shrieks, eyes squeezed shut, voice wild with panic, tears pouring down his face and hands scrabbling for a grip on Hakoda, for something to hold onto, _anything_ to hold onto, and Hakoda holds him tight enough to make the boy's breath hitch and still feels like it's not tight enough.

.

.

.

So being twins means being lucky, and sometimes it means being spirit-touched, except neither of them’s really lucky and Tuikka’s _not_ spirit-touched, just Lanook is. Lanook who can freeze water with a breath, Lanook who never gets stuck in the snow no matter how deep it is, Lanook who can still make Katara feel better even when he’s sad or hurt himself, Lanook who’s the waterbender and is the white of glacier ice and the black of caulking tar and the one the women of the tribe all fawn over. Lanook who’s stronger and faster and who’s always been just that little bit taller and broader even though he’s the younger one, all their lives. 

Lanook who wakes up crying from nightmare visions that Tuikka doesn’t even want to _think_ about. 

“S’okay,” Tuikka mumbles gruffly, reaching out sleepily for his brother in the dark of the tent, because he can _feel_ Lanook awake beside him, hear the stifled almost-sobs that are all the other will let his dreams tear out of him ever since Mom died. Lanook stiffens in his furs, but Tuikka’s hand clamps down on his shoulder and squeezes, hard, and then the other _throws_ himself against him. Tuikka drags his blankets around them both, tight like the way Mom used to tuck them in, and lets Lanook hide his face and his tears and his fears against him.

He’s not the bigger one. He’s not the waterbender. He’s not special or lucky or spirit-touched or strong or fast or nice or handsome or _any_ of those things.

But he’s the big brother, and Lanook needs him. 

And he’s not the one who dreamed of black snow the night before Mom died. 

That’s all that matters.

**Author's Note:**

> [Tumblr!](http://suzukiblu.tumblr.com/)


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